Doctor Who: The Traveler
by Traveler Who
Summary: When a strange amnesia epidemic hits the inhabitants of a sleepy borough and they slowly forget who they are, a strange orphan with a mysterious and unknown past of her own may be their only hope.
1. Prologue: The Forgotten Child

**Prologue : The Forgotten Child**

Who are you?"

The eternal question. The one I have no answer for.

"Who are you, Suzie Smith? Where do you come from?"

Who am I? I'm your typical orphaned teenager with an attitude problem and a bad case of the _I didn't do it_ complex. That makes me one of twenty identical copies from a similar background.  
When I was old enough to find a job of my own, to start my new life, the question started to bother me too.  
Even Stinky Joe had at least an inkling of who he was, where he was from, where he was going.  
All I have is a useless fob watch.  
When I was left at Miss Smith's Home for the Abandoned, I didn't have a silly letter telling me who I was and where I was from. Instead, just this silver pocket watch with its silly circle shaped engravings.  
No name. No return address.

_Who am I_?

Miss Smith was kind enough to refer me to her cousin for some assistant work around the local convenience store, until I can afford a small place of my own, but that doesn't give me a title, an identity, a _name_.  
I'm nobody, a forgotten child.

_Tic_. _Toc_. _Tic_. _Toc_.

"Time can be rewritten, Suzie Q!"

That's what Miss Smith used to say, watching me rub that fob watch over and over until it was shiny like a mirror.

"It's useless to fuss about our past, about what we did or should have done, why this or that happened. All we can do is work with what we have and rewrite our future with the decisions of today."

I never forgot those words. I try to think about them every time something gets tough, something gets out of hand, but how long can a girl remain lost and unnamed without going insane?  
They call me Suzie, Suzie Q, Susan, but that is not my name.  
Something instinctive, visceral, tells me otherwise. But what can that mean, concretely?  
And so I work everyday, preparing the shelves, serving the same boring customers, taking out the trash, until the day I can afford a proper home, away from _Burks & Burks_ and _Miss Smith's Orphanage_, away from Boreville and its pesky, sleepy population.  
Away from here.

_Tic_. _Toc_.

But time doesn't wait for no one.  
Or so I thought.  
That was before _the Time Eaters_ and _the Falling Day_, before _the Sentient Time Capsule _and_ the Day That Never Was_.  
But most importantly, it was before I remembered who I am.


	2. Chapter 1: The Time Eaters

**Chapter 1: The Time Eaters**

"Oi! Suzie Q!" Good old Billy Burks.

"You watched the Tellie lately?"

Old man Burks had a way of asking you questions and answering them before they were done, a sort of walking-talking radio.

With no volume adjustment…

"Been talkin' about this here town!" He howled like there was no tomorrow, "Says people are goin' straight out of their minds!"

"Haven't they always been out of their minds?" I asked distractedly, debating whether pineapple juice should go between the apple and grape juice or the orange and grapefruit.

"They says people all over are goin' amnesic! Why the other day, Gregory told me he couldn't remember where he put the milk! He wanted to make a soufflé see, and—"

I smiled despite myself. Sometimes I was glad Miss Smith didn't like me watching too much television. "It causes mild paranoia!" She says.

"Gregory is old, Mister Burks, he's getting senile is all."

Burks paid attention to me for the first time that morning, as though a veil had lifted between us.

"Gregory is five years younger than me!"

I dropped the pineapple juice.

"You know Mister Burks… We really need a better classification system," I mumbled, my eyes on the floor, "The pineapple juice, it's—"

"You mark my words Suzie Q! They're saying it's an amnesia epistemic!"

I picked up the carton, decided it looked nice next to the grapefruit, and headed over to the counter where Burks was rubbing his counter in agitation.

I smiled at him, placing a reassuring hand on his.

"It's called an _epidemic_. And I highly doubt one can catch amnesia."

"You mark my words Suzie Q! You mark my words!"

* * *

I was walking by 5th and Davison street when I noticed the boy.

I remember thinking, the sun has been down for a few hours now and this really isn't the best part of town, even for a tough cookie like myself.

He wandered aimlessly though the silent streets, like a lost puppy, humming a strange, single noted tune.

It was only at the corner of 1st and Hartnell that he made a full stop.

I edged towards him, an uneasy feeling in my gut.

Who was this boy and what was he doing alone in this part of town?

"Hi there kiddo," I began awkwardly (I've never been very good with children).

The child stayed perfectly still, his face looking up at the incessant flickering of the lamplight he had stopped in front of.

"Is everything okay?" I asked with more assurance.

The child turned to face me, his small beady eyes observing me emotionlessly.

He didn't resemble any child I had ever seen before. That was rather troublesome considering everyone knew each other here.

_Here_. Where _was_ here?

My uneasiness grew drastically.

"I don't know who I am," he said.

I knelt by him, my hands on his shoulders, attempting my best _mother_ face.

"Where's your mummy and daddy?"

He shook his head in negation.

"Where did you come from? Are you lost?"

He shook his head once more.

"They're coming," he said.

A cold shiver danced up my spine. I couldn't help but turn around, looking about us in the semi-darkness of 1st Avenue.

_Silly_. _No one here_.

"Whose coming?" I asked him, my voice difficulty masking my concern.

"The Time Eaters," he said, pointing at the wavering lamppost.

"The what?" I asked, my attention momentarily distracted by the on-off flashes of light.

"They're coming," he repeated, "and they are hungry. Horribly hungry."

The streetlights suddenly flicked off, simultaneously.

"Don't worry!" I said, more for myself than the child, "you're safe. Nothing can harm you!"

But as the lights inexplicably turned on once more, the child was no longer there.

* * *

"Miss Smith! Miss Smith!"

My voice echoed throughout the old corridors of the orphanage. In the pitch blackness of night they seemed much more foreboding. Why were the lights off? Where is everyone?

"Suzie?"

I followed the voice to Little Peter's room.

Alice—Miss Smith's personal assistant—sat on the worn cot, dried tearstains on her cheeks. She looked much older, crippled with worry.

Neither Miss Smith nor Little Peter was anywhere to be seen. For that matter, we seemed to be all alone in the whole of the building.

"Alice… What happened here?"

She rocked herself gently, her arms hugging her sides.

"I don't know. I don't know."

"Where is Miss Smith? Where are the children? Who took them?"

The question had come out without hesitation.

These children had nowhere to go, no one to run to. If they weren't here, where could they possibly be.

Old man Burks' words rang eerily in my memory: _people are goin' straight out of their minds_. _Mark my words, Suzie Q_!

"Alice?" I asked again, worriedly.

"I don't know," she repeated silently. "I don't know."

"You don't know what, Alice?"

She looked up into my eyes, and for a moment I felt much older than her, the fear in her eyes begging for me to save her.

"I… I don't know who I am!"

My heart stopped.

The same words the little boy had spoken in the dark streets outside.

_The Time Eaters_, he had warned.

The darkness around me seemed suddenly less safe than the abandoned streets outside.

"You…you stay right here. All right? I'll get help!"

"I don't know who I am."

I walked away uneasily. It was strange, the way the emptiness in her eyes scared me, seemed so alien. There was nothing of the woman I remembered.

But as the word _remembered _popped into my mind, I realized I could not recollect any concrete memories of my childhood with her, of growing up in these empty hallways at all… I couldn't remember how I got to the orphanage in the first place.

_Where am I?_

I shook myself mentally. I need to get to a phone.

I jogged through the main hallway, the red emergency light flickering warningly as I passed.

The phone was in Miss Smith's office. All I needed to do was—

Three shadowy figures stepped before me.

I skidded to a stop, falling to the floor in my hurry.

The figures floated forwards, their faces hidden by the heavy hood that dropped over their heads. They resembled the grim reapers painted in Miss Smith's old folklore book.

"_Traaaaa…veleeeer…_" the figures whispered in unison.

I couldn't speak, could barely breath.

As the creatures approached me, I felt a tug inside my chest, as though some invisible force was leaving me, sucked in by the shadowy maws of their hoods.

"Suzie! Duck!"

I dropped to the floor as a flash of green light flew over my head .

I barely had a chance to raise my head that Miss Smith took a hold of me and rushed us past the creatures.

As I struggled to look behind me, I saw one of the creatures lift its head.

The hood had fallen off and where a head should have been a flickering ball of light stood in its place. The more I looked at it, the weaker I felt.

Miss Smith harshly turned my face away, pulling me more insistently.

"Don't look back, just run!"

We hit the office door with a thud in our hurry to reach it. I could hear the creatures shuffle behind us, but struggled not to glance at them.

"_Traveler! Traaaveleeeer!_"

"Do you trust me, Suzie?" Miss Smith asked, her hand to the doorknob.

My eyes fell on the strange contraption she held in her hands, a metallic rod covered in buttons and knobs.

"What is that?"

"Do you trust me, Suzie? This is important!" she insisted.

I felt a cold breeze creep up my spine and without wanting to, my eyes turned towards the three shapes.

They stood stark still, only a few feet away, their hoods all lowered, as the spherical lights of their glowing heads hummed, I felt myself grow weaker and weaker.

Miss Smith waved the rod towards them, shooting bolts of green light. The creatures backed away slowly, but the effect over them seemed to have weakened.

"Suzie, you have to choose now! Soon they'll realize this sonic rod is as much of an illusion as the orphanage and they'll get you. You have to make a choice."

I looked at her, observed those caring eyes, her snow-white hair, and something inside of me realized she wasn't real. Though what that meant, I couldn't tell you.

"Yes. Yes I trust you."

Miss smith smiled, turned the doorknob and pushed me into her office.

But it wasn't her office at all.


End file.
